


What Begins in Spring Lasts through the Winter (and ever after, maybe)

by isuilde



Category: Free!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Unbeta-ed, also Sousuke's already close friends with everyone because I want him to be okay shut up, fyeahmakorin's prompt, possible incorrect culture reference, seasonal kisses, very very old prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:23:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2323634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isuilde/pseuds/isuilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin and Makoto's kisses, throughout the year and seasons.</p><p>And even after that.</p><p>(or, stupid couple doing stupid things together. Like kissing.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Begins in Spring Lasts through the Winter (and ever after, maybe)

**Author's Note:**

> A long, long time ago, there was a prompt that tickled me made by [fyeahmakorin](http://fyeahmakorin.tumblr.com/post/81744741127/prompt-1-kisses); which basically listed kisses: First kiss, last kiss, kissing in the rain (or shower), a kiss in the airport, a kiss for each season, and the spiderman kiss.
> 
> Months and months later, I managed. I hope you'd enjoy this.
> 
> There are mentions of hatsumode rituals in the fic, or more specifically, Jyouya no Kane, which is the ritual on New Year's Eve to rign the temple bells 108 times. I have...a weird fascination with festivals, especially hatsumode and obon, but I've never been in them myself so all things mentioned here are based on my indulgent research and friends' stories. If you find something inaccurate, please tell me and I'd do my best to alter the story to fit it. Thank you in advance.

It’s spring when Makoto first lands a kiss on Rin’s lips.

It’s Makoto’s third spring in Tokyo. There’s a huge cherry blossom tree on the round corner of Makoto’s new share house, its branch reaching all the way up across Makoto’s window. Rin’s apartment is on the different train line, about ten stops from Makoto’s university, which is only two stations away in the different direction of Makoto’s share house, but today Rin comes over anyway to help him move in from the dorm.

“Why didn’t you just get an apartment,” Rin grouches after they finished moving Makoto’s stuff into his new room. The share house isn’t big, but to Makoto’s knowledge, it’s fully rented by seven other people, not including the owner whose room is right next to the kitchen. “You don’t even have your own bathroom, here.”

Makoto chuckles. “I don’t have my own bathroom back in the dorm, either,” he points out.

“Exactly,” Rin says. “What’s the point of moving out of the dorm, then?” He rummages around the convenient store’s plastic bag abandoned on the corner of the room, pulls out two cans of oolong tea and throws one of them to Makoto.

“Thanks, Rin,” Makoto tells him sincerely. “For helping me move.”

Rin shrugs, his steps light as he strides towards Makoto, who is leaning on the windowsill. The cherry blossom is on full bloom, a bunch of frail, soft pink and white petals dancing precariously on the branch as the spring breeze rushes. If they leaned out of the window a little further, Rin’s pretty sure they could pluck some of the petals.

“It’s not like I’d leave you to haul all those boxes by yourself. Haru’s also coming after his class later, so we might as well hang out together.” He opens his drink, leaning on the other side of the windowsill, watching the spring breeze plays with the unruly brown strands that is Makoto’s hair. He lets the silence drag for a moment, before ducking his head and throws his gaze out of the window and continues in a softer voice, “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” Makoto agrees, turning slightly so that he’s leaning on his side now, his right hand balancing on  the windowsill as his left absently turns the can of oolong tea around. “I think the last time we could get together was—two months ago?”

“Two and a half,” Rin corrects, and scowls when Makoto chuckles. “Shut up. I’m not counting, the last time we got together was when Sousuke visited, I just remembered the date.”

“It’s okay even if you count, I’m not telling anyone,” Makoto says lightly, shoulders shaking with laughter, this time turning around so he could lean out of the window. Rin follows his lead, elbows bracing against the windowsill as his shoulder presses against Makoto’s, warm and steady, and watches some cherry blossom petals ride the breeze, sneaking past Makoto’s head and into the room.

He gives up. “This room’s got the view, I give you that.”

Makoto brightens. “Right? It reminds me of you,” he laughs, cheerful if slightly sheepish, and Rin’s heart skips a beat. Fuck. “The cherry blossom tree, I mean. The first time I came up here, and saw the tree, I thought you’d like it, when spring comes.”

Rin jostles him from the side good-naturedly. “What, is this all just a plot to get me sleep over at your place more often, Tachibana?”

Makoto ducks his head, laughs softly, and peers up at Rin under his lashes. “Maybe. Is it working?”

Rin opens his mouth, and finds the sight of Makoto, hair ruffled by the spring breeze, a stray cherry blossom petal tangled between the mop of brown hair, shy eyes determinedly locking with Rin’s, completely takes his speech away. He swallows instead, raises his hand slowly, fingers plucking the stray petal off the tangle of Makoto’s hair, and lingers there for two-three-four beats.

“Rin,” Makoto breathes, and Rin only needs to duck his head a little to press their foreheads together.

So that’s what he does, even as he wonders where the courage to do this comes from when he couldn’t find it in him for the last year, lightly resting his forehead against Makoto. It’s Makoto who moves, who presses their foreheads harder, who slowly closes the gap between their noses, and whispers, the words breathing against Rin’s lips tantalizingly, “Can I kiss you?”

“If you don’t,” Rin says weakly, “I’m going to be so fucking mad at you.”

And with a chuckle, their lips catch.

**\-----o0o-----**

It’s a wet summer, this year.

Rin opens his umbrella as he steps out of the Shinjuku station, staring up at the pouring rain wistfully. Next to him, Haruka doesn’t even bother, just happily continues his strides as they cross the road towards Shinjuku Gyoen. The large park is rather deserted, except for the one or two people running past them in search of shelter.

“Haru, goddammit,” Rin groans, “You’re going to catch a cold.”

Haruka shrugs, drops of water pelting off his soaked hair, disappearing into dark patches of his jacket. “Umbrella isn’t helping anyway.”

It’s a valid point, really. The pouring rain is fast turning into a storm, just as the news predicted today—which is why they’re supposed to quickly get Makoto and run over to Haruka’s apartment—and even with his umbrella, Rin is already half-soaked. The wind howls in the distance, catching their attention, and Rin thinks  _Makoto_ as he catches the worry flashes on Haruka’s eyes.

“Come on,” he says, and they pass the gate of Shinjuku Gyoen. The paved road gives way to wet ground under their soles; Rin makes a face every time he steps on a soft patch of ground and mud clings to his shoes. The wind doesn’t let up, either, and Rin’s effort to extend his umbrella above Haruka’s head isn’t making him any dryer.

Haruka looks at him. “It’s fine.”

“You’ll catch a cold,” Rin scowls. “Who’s going to take care of you, then? Us, of course. More trouble. Also, university swim meet is next month.”

“You’re soaked, too,” there’s a defensive tone in Haruka’s voice, like a child who just got scolded for sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack. He raises his arms for emphasis, and Rin just stares at the sad, wet jacket jeans that cling to Haruka’s figure. “We’re already soaked, it’s no use.”

“You just want to play in the rain because it’s water,” Rin accuses, dropping his umbrella and closing it, welcoming the drops of water immediately pelting his face. Fuck, his hair must be completely ruined now.

Haruka stares. “You look like a drowned cat.”

“You look like a goldfish,” Rin shoots back half-heartedly without even thinking, aware that his insult makes zero sense because Haruka just levels him an unimpressed gaze. A particularly strong wind breezes past them, and Rin shivers. “Come on, we gotta get Makoto.”

Haruka hums, turning and continues his steps. Rin scrambles to follow. “You’d catch a cold.”

“Whose fault do you think it is?”

“You should’ve brought a raincoat. A jacket, at least.”

“It’s summer,” Rin groans. “Did you see what the temperature was outside, this morning? An hour ago it was sweltering.”

He could see the gazebo from where they are, now; could see the bulk huddled in one of its corner, familiar, wet brown hair sticking every which way. The wind howls harder, causing said bulk to visibly flinch, and Rin catches Haruka’s gaze before their pace picks up.

“Makoto!” he calls out, voice nearly drowned by the wind. Makoto’s head snaps up just as Rin and Haruka steps up under the gazebo, relief apparent in his face. Rin drops his umbrella, hurries over to where Makoto sits in the corner, and leans down to press their foreheads together. He’s soaked,too, Rin notices. The gazebo isn’t much of a shelter—the wind blows rain water through the open space, circling under the gazebo’s roof before rushing out of it.

He hears Makoto breathe evenly under his touch, and relaxes. This is Tokyo, this is Shinjuku, and the ocean isn’t in sight, but there are bad memories lurking in Makoto’s head when the storm rages, and he hates that Makoto is out and alone at times like this.

“Sorry we’re late,” he says. Makoto hums slightly, a silent it’s fine, and Rin pulls away. Haruka falls next to him, shoulders slightly hunching, searching for Makoto’s eyes. Rin lets the two converse in an exchange of nods and shakes of head and soft smiles, in favor of looking up to the dark, mourning sky.

“This is going to get worse,” he says. “We should just run through the rain to your place, Haru.”

“I’m good with that,” Haruka answers, because of course. Rin rolls his eyes fondly.

“We’re going to catch a cold,” Makoto says, a hint of laughter underlining his voice. “All of us. We’re completely soaked.”

Rin grins. “Might as well, right?”

They steps out of the gazebo, back under the pouring rain and the howling wind, with the smell of wet earth thick under their noses. Makoto stops just as his foot leaves the last step, and says, “Wait,” before crouching down to tie his undone shoe laces.

And Rin, because he’s more of a worrywart than he’d ever going to admit, falls to Makoto’s side and crouches next to him. His bare arm presses against Makoto’s drenched shirt what he hopes is a comforting gesture, and Makoto pauses, turns his head slightly to him, and smile.

“I’m okay,” he murmurs. Rin nods, tries not to remember Haruka’s voice a few years ago:  _it was storming, he wasn’t breathing, I was really scared—_

“Yeah,” he says it, just to hear his own voice drowns Haruka’s quiet one in the back of his mind, and leans in. Makoto meets him halfway, cold lips pressing against Rin’s own, moving ever so slightly. Makoto’s wet bangs tickle the side of his face, drops of water running down their foreheads, their brows, falling on where their lips meet, and Rin tastes summer rain in the corners of Makoto’s lips.

From the corner of his eyes, Rin sees Haruka moves to stand in front of them, hiding them from anyone who might pass the bridge close to the gazebo.

**\-----o0o-----**

It’s well into autumn when Sousuke comes back from the US—girls have long trade their sleeveless shirts and tanktops with light jackets or short coats, Haruka gets into the habit of buying yaki-imo from that one vendor close to Rin’s apartment whenever he comes over, Makoto begins his volunteer work at the animal center, and Rin starts sleeping over at Makoto’s place more often because his apartment’s heating system sucks. When he tells Sousuke that a week before his visit, though, Sousuke just smirks at him and tells him he should just move in with Makoto, because he’s not fooling anyone.

Rin is very indignant about that, he makes a point of making Haruka and Makoto sleep over at his place, calls Sousuke on Skype and lets him hear first-hand how Makoto wails about Rin’s room being an ice vortex. Haruka just glares dagger at Rin and Sousuke for dragging him into their silly argument, and refuses to talk to Rin until Rin relents and gives him free reign to his kitchen, resulting in them having all mackerel dishes for dinner.

But anyway, it’s autumn when Sousuke comes back, and the three of them are standing in the arrival gate, waiting for Sousuke to come out with a yaki-imo in each of their hands. It’s a perfect snack in autumn, after all, and Rin enjoys having the warmth of the potato puffs up against his face when he bites in.

“I should learn how to bake this properly,” Haruka says, already half-finished with his own yaki-imo.

Makoto makes a thoughtful noise. “Didn’t they bake this out in the open, with leaves, in the old days?”

“Does it make it tastier?”

“There he is,” Rin cuts into their conversation, giddy as he spots the familiar tuft of black hair hauling a backpack and striding out of the arrival gate. “Sousuke! Over here!”

Sousuke turns, a grin breaking on his face, and Rin doesn’t wait for him to come over. He shoves his yaki-imo at Makoto, and half-runs towards his bestfriend, arms opening to draw Sousuke into a tight hug, laughter falling from his lips. There’s that familiar strength in Sousuke’s grip when he lets go and looks at Rin, and Rin punches him on the chest playfully.

“It’s been a long while, Rin,” Sousuke says, retaliating by shoving Rin on the shoulder lightly. “Ha, you didn’t get any taller.”

“Low,” Rin shoots back, grinning. “I don’t need your height, I can beat you just fine in butterfly.”

“You got a handicap because of my shoulder—”

“It healed completely last year, dumbass.” Rin laughs. “You didn’t go through that rehab without any result.”

Sousuke’s lips twitch up. “Yeah,” he says, a hint of pride brimming in his voice, and Rin offers a fist because he’s proud of Sousuke, too, for going through that awful period in his life, for not giving up. Sousuke bumps it, and then turns to the rest of their group. “Oh, you guys are still here.”

“That’s mean,” Makoto chuckles, eyes soft and fond, and Sousuke barks a laugh before moving in to give him a friendly hug. “Ah, careful, I’ve got yaki-imo—ahaha, welcome home, Yamazaki-kun.”

“What is with you guys and yaki-imo this year?” Sousuke lets go, turns to Haruka with a curious gaze. “What, it’s that good?”

“There’s a new vendor close to Rin’s apartment,” Haruka answers, offering the half-finished yaki-imo in his hand, and Sousuke leans down to take a bite. He makes a thoughtful noise as he chews, and then nods.

“Yeah, it’s pretty good.” Haruka gives him a look, and Sousuke relents. “Okay, it’s really good, but that’s because I haven’t eaten yaki-imo in a while. I kind of miss Japanese food.”

Rin snorts. “Your host family is Japanese.”

“Doesn’t mean they cook Japanese food every day.”

“Really?” Makoto says, sounding surprised, and Rin rolls his eyes as he takes back his yaki-imo from Makoto. Sousuke turns to him and laughs.

“Really, Tachibana. Don’t worry, you’ll know how it is once you’re there. Your flight to the US is the same as my flight back, right?”

Ah, Rin thinks, suddenly reminded that it’s only two weeks away before Makoto goes in an exchange program to America. It’s mostly luck,that Makoto got placed in the same city as where Sousuke and his host family live, but it would make it easier for Makoto to adapt there. Rin pauses on his step, looks around, catches the sight of the departure gate, and thinks,  _I’ll be back here in two weeks to see them off_ .

There’s a tentative brush against his hand, and Makoto’s voice calls out, “Rin?”

“Yeah,” Rin says absently, staring at the departure gate a moment longer, before turning to Makoto’s curious face. “What?”

Makoto smiles. “It’s only going to be three months.”

“Yeah,” Rin says, shrugging. “I was just thinking that I’d be back here again in two weeks, is all.” Then he looks up, holds Makoto’s gaze, and tells him, “I’m really happy for you.”

Makoto’s smile turns softer, but his eyes are brighter, happier.

“Thank you, Rin.”

“And,” Rin says, lips twitching in a sudden urge of mischief and insane courage. “You’ve got potato crumbs.”

“Eh—“ and before Makoto could say anything else, Rin leans up, catches Makoto’s lips and breathes in Makoto’s surprised yelp, sweeping his tongue on the corner of Makoto’s lip to take away the tiny piece of yaki-imo left, and pulls away.

Makoto looks dazed. Rin hears Sousuke’s groan and Haruka’s deadpan, “Rin, public place.”

“Mmm,” Rin licks his lips, laughter tickling at the back of his throat, swallowing the tiny piece of yaki-imo he stole from the corner of Makoto’s mouth. It’s sweet—sweeter than his own yaki-imo, the taste filling the corners of Rin’s mouth, and even if normally he doesn’t like sweets, Rin thinks he’d like to taste this one again and again.

He turns to Haruka and grins.

“Yeah, Haru, this yaki-imo is really tasty.”

**\-----o0o-----**

They make a point to come home to Iwatobi every New Year’s. One reason is because of the twins’ demand, and Makoto has never been able to refuse his siblings. Another is because of Nagisa’s demand, because if they don’t take him out for hatsumode then his sisters would, and even at the age of twenty, Nagisa would still look good in a woman kimono. Another thing would be Gou’s demand, because she’s gotten into the habit of taking everyone’s picture at every end and beginning of the year, and she’d spend the next day giggling and comparing everyone’s muscles from year to year, and Rin really can’t refuse her.

But the ultimate reason is because New Year’s is a special time for them—just the five of them—a time that, no matter where they are or how busy they are, they would still prioritize. It’s a time to come home, that’s how Rin calls it in his head, because his home would forever be Iwatobi, no matter how far he’s be going to chase his dream. It’s where he really started, it’s where he was saved, it’s where he finally found his conviction.

So every New Year’s, they would come home and watch Kohaku at Haruka’s house, before getting up an hour before midnight for hatsumode with the twins.

The temple is full of people—Iwatobi might be a small city compared to Tokyo, but that doesn’t mean less people visit the temple for hatsumode. The winter bite is sharp against Rin’s skin as they make their way up the hills towards the temple—Nagisa’s out in a man’s kimono tonight, even wearing a geta that makes loud thumping sounds as he excitedly flits from one side of the group to another. Rei is wearing one, too, clearly intended to match Nagisa, while Gou wears her furisode to indulge the twins’ wish.

They stop by one of the amazake kiosk, warming themselves up as they wait for the countdown to the new year. The twins are chattering about what wish they might make, when Nagisa turns to Rin and says, “I’m going to wish for a marriage.”

There’s a notable pause in their group before Makoto and Rei burst out in “Eeeh?!” and Rin deadpans, “What,” and Haruka goes, “Ah, me too.”

“What?!” And this time, Rin whirls, eyes wide and surprised, because Nagisa saying things about marriage might still be a joke, but if Haruka does then it’s something serious. Makoto apparently thinks the same, because his eyes are already as wide as saucers and his voice shakes when he lets out, “You have a girlfriend, Haru?”

Gou giggles. “It’s not any of us,” she says, and points at a figure sitting straight on a bench, clad in a beautiful yellow and midnight blue furisode peppered with patterns of butterflies, familiar soft brown hair decorated and done up properly, hands folded atop of her thighs, a ring on her finger catching the dim light of the street lamps.

Rin recognizes her, but he doesn’t know her enough to be surprised or happy for her. Instead, Makoto makes a surprised noise. “Ama-chan?”

Nagisa grins. “Haru-chan, Gou-chan and I saw her getting proposed to yesterday. At the beach. Right at sunset.”

Rei makes an admiring noise. “She’s very beautiful, the man must be very lucky.”

“Rei-chan, you can’t have a crush on her.”

“I’m already in a relationship with you, Nagisa-kun!”

“Do we know who the man is?” Makoto cuts in, turning to Haruka, who just shrugs. Not someone they would know, then.

“I think it’s someone from the city,” Nagisa tells them, lowering his voice like he’s sharing a forbidden secret. “I heard he was Ama-chan’s classmate back when they were in middle school, and he’d been chasing Ama-chan relentlessly before coming to Iwatobi and finally got her attention!”

Rin stares at him. “You completely made that up, didn’t you.”

Nagisa pouts. “Was it that obvious?”

“You said you saw her getting proposed to only yesterday,” Rei sighs, shaking his head.

Gou settles next to Rin, arms folded into the sleeves of her furisode, half huddling for warmth against Rin’s side, and looks up at Rin with a smile. “Oniichan, what are you going to wish for?”

Rin stares at her, takes in the elegant lines of her face, the way her hair is pinned up beautifully, the way she holds herself, and thinks instead, what would Gou wish for, this year? Love, maybe? Career? Gou isn’t a kid anymore—the days where she’d wished for her brother to come home for the holiday more often are long gone.

What should he wish for?

His dream. To stand on top of the world with a gold medal hanging heavily on his chest. To swim against Haruka in the world championship. To win the Nationals with his university team. To stand here next to Gou every year, with his friends, visiting the same temple until the time comes when Gou brings someone else with them, when Haruka brings someone he loves, or when one of them brings their kids. To watch Nagisa and Rei press close to each other, sharing a drink and looking like the world exists just for the two of them. To come back to his apartment in Tokyo, awful heating system and all, and call Sousuke on Skype and laugh over the silliest story they would share. To run across the Shinjuku station and past Shinjuku Gyoen for a sleep over at Haruka’s place, marathoning swimming videos and eating mackarels.

To have Makoto’s hand in his own, every day, squeezing his with warmth. To have Makoto’s smile in everything Makoto sends for him: texts, e-mails, his voice through the phone, soft “good morning” and “good night” and “I’m coming over”. To see Makoto succeeds in his fight, whatever he’s going to fight for next.

“Us,” Rin hears himself says, one hand raising up to pat Gou on the cheek softly. “I’m going to wish for us all.”

Gou looks at him for a long, long time, and then settles into a soft smile. “That’s very gracious of you, Oniichan.”

“Course I am,” Rin mumbles, fighting against the heat crawling up his face at Gou’s giggle. It’s a good thing no one is paying attention to him—except maybe Makoto, whose hand is slipping into Rin’s own, catching Rin’s gaze with a smile.

The loud echo of the temple bell breaks the warmth of the group, and Nagisa excitedly yelps. “They’re starting!”

“Count to 108,” Makoto tells the twins, who beam back up at him and starts counting. Haruka falls to Makoto’s other side, hands deep in his pocket, looking up at the night winter sky contentedly, and Rin doesn’t know why, but it makes him happy. This, everything—Haruka’s small smile, Nagisa’s excited chatter, Rei’s answers, Gou humming a soft tune under her breath, Makoto’s hand in Rin’s, the twins counting to one hundred and eight, each echo of the temple bell as it slowly rings past ten-twenty-thirty-forty-fifty times, the chilly winter bite making red shades on his exposed skin—all of it makes him happy.

“Cold?” Makoto murmurs, knocks the side of his head to Rin’s gently. Rin shrugs—he’s covered enough, what with his coat and gloves, but he’d forgotter his scarf, so the winter chill is merciless on his neck. It’s not something he can’t handle though, and the amazake kiosk is warm enough.

“Not really,” he replies. The bell rings again, the twins yell “A hundred!” giddily, and the sense of anticipation rises in the  air.

A hundred and seven before midnight and one right after midnight, Rin remembers. A total of a hundred and eight to purge the 108 sins that man is said to have.

“Makoto,” he tugs at Makoto’s coat sleeve insistently. Makoto turns, eyes questioning, and Rin grins. “Kiss me.”

“Huh?” Makoto blinks. “Now?”

The bell echoes. A hundred and five. “Now. Last kiss for the year.” He pauses, grin turning into his patented rogue Matsuoka grin. “You know, before they purge all of our sins at the 108 th ring.”

Makoto chuckles, but he doesn’t fight when Rin pulls him closer. Another echo; a hundred and six. “Is that what we’re doing? Sin?”

“Course not. It’s life.” Rin says, and kisses Makoto just as the bell rings a hundred and seven.

Makoto is cold—his lips, his skin, his breath—like the winter chill has found its way into Makoto’s body and inhabits whatever space Makoto leaves empty. Rin deepens the kiss, chases away the last of the winter chill in Makoto’s mouth, and wishes that when he’s done, there’d be nothing left in Makoto but the warmth of the group and the taste of Rin lingering in his mouth.

"Happy New Year,” he hears Haruka murmurs, to the excited replies of all his friends, and the bell rings one hundred and eight.

**\------o0o-----**

**OMAKE**

Makoto comes into the room and pauses on the door, looking down at where Rin is with a half-confused, half-amused smile on his lips. “What are you doing?”

“Ugh,” Rin groans, stubbornly keeping his eyes shut, not moving from where his upper body dangles upside down from the bed, because his head is  _killing him_ . “Shut up.”

“So mean,” Makoto complains, raising his hand, which holds a cup a coffee. “Even though I brought you coffee.”

Rin pries his eyes open with a real struggle, eyes squinting as his gaze slowly focused on Makoto. His right hand comes up, making a vague grabbing move before he completely gives up and drops it back. “Ugh.”

“You’re going to hurt your back,” Makoto comments lightly, stepping into the room and closing the door shut. He sits next to where Rin half-dangles from the bed, placing the cup of coffee on the floor. “You can’t drink your coffee if you don’t get up.”

Rin groans, with feeling. “My head  _hurts_ .”

“You should’ve known better than trying to drink Yamazaki-kun under the table.” Makoto chuckles, hand finding Rin’s head and fingers slipping through the red strands, massaging gently. Rin makes an obscene grunt, eyes sliding back shut, and exhales long.

“What time is it?”

“A little over eleven.”

“…fuck, I missed morning practice.”

“You also missed a class, and will miss another one if you don’t get up.”

“Ugh,” Rin says again, and the next words come out without thinking. “I should just move into your place, I wouldn’t have to come back to an empty apartment, it’d be great.”

Makoto’s fingers still. It takes Rin a full five seconds before his brain registers what he’d just said, and something in his chest sinks.

“Uh,” he says, forcing his eyes open, and finds Makoto looking at him, eyes soft and determined if a little scared.

“Did you mean that?” Makoto asks, the words barely a whisper, lost in air between the two of them.

Rin opens his mouth, swallows, and thinks,  _us_ .

“Yeah,” he answers, finally. There’s a strange sort of relief when he lets out the word, like the first sun that comes out after dreadful winter days, and he clears his throat, nodding to himself. “Yeah. I want to wake up to cherry blossom petals this year, I think.”

Makoto smiles, and it’s like watching the sun rise, the slow brightening up of his face. “Just the cherry blossom?”

Rin breathes in. Breathes out. Closes his eyes.

“And you.”

And he’s still half-dangling upside down from the  bed, but Makoto’s chuckle is sweeter than the scent of flowers budding on spring, as the gap between their lips is closed with a firm kiss, Makoto’s upper lip against Rin’s lower one, soft and slightly chapped, curved up in a happy smile.

_And you_ , Rin repeats silently. _And you_.

**\-----o0o-----**

**Author's Note:**

> Yaki-imo is baked sweet potatoes. It's a very popular autumn snack in Japan.
> 
> Hatsumode is the first visit to the temple on New Year's. Kohaku refers to [Kohaku Uta Gassen](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K%C5%8Dhaku_Uta_Gassen). Furisode is a style of kimono with very long sleeves, [like this](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Furisode). Amazake is sweet sake. ALSO [SHINJUKU GYOEN](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shinjuku_Gyoen).


End file.
